Insane
by JennyWren
Summary: Hearing the voice of the Angel of Music may be all right for Christine. But when you´re in a mental asylum like Maria things are very different. Story complete now!
1. Default Chapter

Insane

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters from "The Phantom of the Opera". They belong to Gaston Leroux/ Andrew Lloyd Webber. All other characters, however, belong to me.

**Dedication: **This story is for Vicky, my never-ending source of encouragement.

**1**

"You hear voices?" The penetrating look of the girl was cold as she went on: "That´s nothing extraordinary here. I can assure you: That alone won´t make people attentive for as much as five seconds. Who do you hear? Virgin Mary? Napoleon? The Angel of Music?" Maria stared at her, utterly bewildered. A self-satisfied smile appeared on the other girl´s face. "They didn´t tell you I was telepathic?" She shook her head, making the blonde curls fly. "I know everything that goes on in you head…"

_"Sometimes I really wish I knew what´s going on in your head, Christine!" Meg sighed. She leant closer to me, her hair, damp with sweat, brushing over my shoulder. "You have to concentrate on the new steps or my mother won´t be pleased." "I´m trying, but it´s so complicated.", I gave back. My voice had dropped to a whisper as I saw Mme.Giry looking over to us while correcting another girl´s left arm._

_Meg raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You could do much better if you stopped singing under your breath. Did he give you another lesson yesterday?" My only answer was a dreamy smile. She took my hand, apparently oblivious to the fact that we were in the middle of a ballet class. "Christine, I thought I was your best friend. Why don´t you tell me who he is, that great teacher of yours?" "I don´t know it myself!", I tried to argue. "He only speaks to me. But his voice is so…" Mme.Giry interrupted me: "Meg, Christine! Up to now I was caught in the illusion that this was a ballet lesson and you were here because you want to be dancers. But if you want to train your conversational skills instead, I must ask you to leave this room." Hastily we went on practicing. "We´ll talk later.", Meg muttered._

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The middle-ages couple sitting in front of Dr.Monroe´s imposing mahogany desk seemed to be very nervous. The man´s gaze wandered restlessly from the framed diplomas on the wall to the bookshelf full of scientific literature, then to the window, through which a huge oak tree could be seen, and back to the wall. The woman played with the clasp of her handbag: open-close, open-close, open… Dr.Monroe shifted in his seat, painfully aware that his news won´t be able to calm down these people.

"Mr. and Mrs.Bailey, I am sorry to inform you that the situation of your daughter is very serious.", he said carefully. Alfred Bailey jumped up, and for a split-second the doctor thought he wanted to attack him. Instead he started pacing the room: up and down, up and down – a strange imitation of his wife´s action. "How can you know that?" His voice was a mirror of his suppressed anger. "She´s only here for a couple of hours. Have you even talked to her?" Katherine Bailey stirred in her seat. A sound escaped her throat, something between a laugh and a sob. When she spoke it was with the bitterness of a woman who had given up hope long ago. "Fred, you know as well as I do that Maria doesn´t talk to anyone. She hasn´t said a word for a month."

Dr.Monroe gave up his attempt to divide his attention equally between the Baileys and concentrated on the mother. Somehow he couldn´t bear this constant movement. It reminded him of some of his patients. "I tried to have a conversation with your daughter, and you´re right in assuming that she hardly reacted." Mrs.Bailey acknowledged it with a small nod. "However, I studied her file and because of my experience I can suggest a therapy. Well start with a well-supervised…" "I don´t want to hear any of this nonsense!", Alfred Bailey snapped impatiently. "Will you be able to cure her?"


	2. 2

**2**

"Cure her?" Although Dr.Monroe tried it he couldn´t keep a look of utmost superiority out of his face. Some people knew nothing about the complexity of the human mind. "It is far too early to make a prognosis about that, Mr.Bailey." The man stopped dead and stared at him. But it was his wife who spoke: "Then why did you ask us to come here?". The doctor leant back in his comfortable chair. "You see, the extraordinary part of your daughter´s medical history is how rapidly her situation got worse.", he said matter-of-factly.

"Tell me about it!", Alfred Bailey remarked cynically. "Ten weeks ago Maria was a normal young woman. She worked as a waitress, had a nice boyfriend and…" "Fiancé!", Katherine corrected, rummaging in her handbag. "They wanted to marry next summer. That´s the two of them!" She pulled out a photo and placed it on the desk. It showed a girl with long, dark hair and a blonde man in front of a large building.

Dr.Monroe took a closer look. Architecture was one of his hobbies. "Interesting scenery!", he muttered. "Where was it taken?" "Maria and Peter spent a weekend in Paris. It has to be some old opera house, I think.", Mrs.Bailey informed him. Quite suddenly the mask of indifference slipped, and her voice became soft. "This was the last time my little girl was really herself. As soon as she got home it started."

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

"Hey! What´s the matter with you?" The girl waved a hand in front of Maria´s eyes, which had become unfocused. "It´s very rude not to listen when your dear Angela is friendly enough to tell you something." She waited for a reply but when none came she simply continued after a few seconds: "You don´t talk? Again, nothing unusual. Well, at least you´re looking at me now, so I guess I can repeat now what I´ve said earlier."

Maria tilted her head to one side. "I take this as a ´yes´.", Angela commented drily, thought she wasn´t sure whether it had been a reaction to her. But being picky was no good in the asylum, that much she had learned in the five months since her family had brought her here. For someone who liked the sound of her own voice as much as Angela it was vital to find a person who listened to her, and actually she preferred the ones who didn´t talk themselves.

"Of course I´m not telepathic.", she told Maria. "But I overheard people taking about you when you arrived." She closed her eyes to concentrate, then opened them again to state: "Maria Bailey, 18 years old, only child. First signs of odd behaviour about ten weeks ago. Extremely vivid hallucinations. Hears the voice of one ´Angel of Music´. Did I leave anything out?". Grinning she clapped a hand on the girl´s shoulder. "If you want to know something about anyone … Hey, it´s not fun when you don´t listen!"

_Let her talk! What does she know? _Maria smiled. ´There you are, my Angel of Music! I missed you.´ _I missed you as well, Christine. _His voice covered the girl like a warming blanket. _But we have to be careful! You know where you are, don´t you, child? These people could separate us – forever! _´I don´t want to lose you.´ _Don´t worry about it now! Just close your eyes…_

_I opened my eyes and found myself in front of the mirror in my dressing room. " That was excellent, Christine. You really sung like an angel. One more song, and we´ll be finished for tonight." My cheeks blushed with pride. My teacher was rarely that enthusiastic with his comments. Today he sounded unusually pleased with something. This gave me the possibility to ask a question I had thought about for a while: "Why are we rehearsing all the songs from ´Hannibal´? I´ll never have the chance to perform them on stage.". For a second I was sure I had heard him chuckle, but dismissed the idea as impossible. That wasn´t like him. "You shall see, Christine, you shall see. And now let us continue!" I picked up my music book and started singing._


	3. 3

**3**

Dr.Monroe picked up his notepad and a pen before asking: "What exactly happened?". Katherine seemed to consider the question for a moment. Then she started slowly, as if the memory was too terrible to re-live it: "Some days after this weekend Peter called us. He was very upset. He told us that Maria had locked herself up in her flat and refused to let him in. First we thought they might have had an argument, and Peter wanted us to mediate. But then we drove to her and …" She sobbed and turned around to her husband, an unspoken plea for support on her lips.

The doctor looked up from his notes and saw that Alfred Bailey was about to continue. "Could you sit down again, please?" He tried not to sound as annoyed as he was at the man´s behaviour. Instead he forced himself to remain friendly. "There is no reason for being nervous." "No reason? You want us to tell you about the worst moment in our life!" Mr.Bailey almost shouted, but after a quick glance at his wife, who was stifling her cries with a handkerchief, he followed the doctor´s request and went on, considerably calmer: "She wouldn´t open the door, so we entered with our own key and found her in the bedroom. We had never seen her like that: sitting in a corner, muttering to herself. She wasn´t even properly dressed. When she spotted Kate, she jumped up, flung her arms around her and burst into tears.".

The pen flew over the page as Dr.Monroe filled line after line. "She stammered: ´Mum, I´m so frightened! I keep having these weird dreams, even when I´m not sleeping. And there is a voice calling me … oh, it´s such a wonderful voice…´. Mrs.Bailey sobbed harder, and her husband put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her. The doctor used the break to consult the girl´s file again. "I´ve read that your daughter told you about hallucinations in which she had the role of Christine, a chorus girl in 19th century Paris. This girl takes singing lessons from a mysterious man who calls himself ´Angel of Music´. Maria also said that she heard this man´s voice outside these hallucinations, telling her what to do. Is that correct?" Alfred Bailey nodded. "And what can you do about it?", he asked in a small voice, apparently intimidated by the neutral enumeration of his daughter´s problems.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………..

_After the opera I returned to my dressing room, heady with my unexpected success. As soon as I had closed the door behind me I called: "I really did it. I was the lead singer in ´Hannibal´! Did you hear me?" "Of course I heard you, Christine. You were fantastic, and you looked prettier than anyone else." I was unable to stand still. I danced around in front of the mirror, admiring the costume, which was much more beautiful than my normal chorus girl dress._

"_Why can you always see me, but not the other way round?" The question was daring, but tonight I was courageous. "I am you angel, child, I have to watch over you." "But I want to see you!", I said eagerly. There was absolute silence, for such a long time that I was almost sure he had left. I regretted my stupid wish. What if he had gone for good?_

_Then I heard his voice, slow and hesitating: "Are you sure you want this?". "Of course I am!", I replied impatiently. "Then look in the mirror!", he commanded almost briskly. I complied. A second later I stared at it, transfixed. There was no longer only my reflection visible._

"Oh, look!", Angela said. Maria blinked a few times, not unlike a sleepwalker who had been disturbed on his journey. "The pills come!"


	4. 4

**4**

"As I was about to tell you before…", Dr.Monroe stressed with a disapproving glance at Alfred Bailey. "…we´ll start with the body therapy. This means that your daughter will be given certain medication which will influence her brain." "And that´ll make her normal again?", Mr.Bailey asked suspiciously. His wife looked up, her urge to hear good news for a change clearly visible. But the doctor had always been an honest man. "I wish it was that easy. After some time the symptoms will gradually vanish."

"But?" Alfred Bailey sounded almost hostile now. Dr.Monroe sighed. He knew this stage only too well. It occurred when relatives had to realise that he was no wizard who could give them their old family members back with a snap of his finger. "But we´ll need other forms of therapy. For these forms, however, the patient has to be more cooperative, and that´s where the medicaments help."

Suddenly Mrs.Bailey seized the doctor´s arm and pulled him closer. "You mean that when Maria takes the pills she won´t hear this ´Angel of Music´ again?", she asked, her eyes glowing with excitement. "If she reacts like most patients do …", he answered, trying in vain to break free from the woman´s grip. "What do we have to sign?"

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

"You won´t get any yet because it´s your first day and the doctors´ll have to decide what exacty to give you." Angela started to enjoy her position as the one who always had an explanation. A nurse handed her a small bowl and a glass of water and went over to the next patient. "The pills are great, really. They make you calm, and the muttering in your head stops." Maria froze.

´Have you heard that?´ _Yes, Christine, that was what I talked about earlier. _´But … they can´t make you go away, can they? I mean, you´re not just a voice in my head, you´re a real person …´ _I´m as real as you are, Christine._ ´Then why am I the only one who can hear you?´ It wasn´t the first time this question occurred to her, but before, without the imminent danger of losing him, she hadn´t dared ask. _I chose you because you´re something special. _´Like you.´ _Yes. The world isn´t worthy of us. We don't need anyone else._ ´Who are you?´ _I´ll show you…_

_For a moment I thought my eyes deceived me. But there was no mistaking: I could see a man standing right behind my reflection. Quickly I threw a glance over my shoulder. Nobody was there. I looked back at the mirror, where the picture had become larger. Through pearly-white mist I saw that he was very tall and that a mask covered half of his face. The whole scene was so utterly unreal that I asked myself whether I was only dreaming._

_Suddenly the mirror sprang open to reveal the entry to a passage way. "Come!", the man said, and at once I recognised the voice of my teacher. Without thinking twice I took the hand he offered me and let me pull through the mirror. My wish to find out whether all this, whether he was real grew stronger. So I stretched out a hand to touch his face._

_Enough!_ His voice cut through the silence like a knife and made the girl jump. Never before had he interrupted one of the scenes he sent her so harshly. ´I´m sorry!´ She apologised, though she didn´t know what she had done. _It was my own fault. You´re not ready for the truth yet._ ´I want to know the truth. What is underneath your mask?´ _People who had seen it hated me._ ´I could never hate you!´


	5. 5

**5**

"But you´ve told us there would be visible results after one week!" Alfred Bailey slammed his fist on the desk, only by inches missing his coffee cup. Dr.Monroe straightened up. There was definitely a change in the way he addressed the man. This time he didn´t even try to be polite; the anger about his failure made him considerably less tolerant. "I know perfectly well what I´ve told you.", he said coldly. "But the therapy can´t succeed when the patient doesn´t take the medication. And this applies to your daughter, as yesterday´s blood test shows."

As he received a blank stare from the parents, he felt the urge to explain: "In the ward your daughter lives in the taking of medicine is not observed. Most patients like this freedom and do not abuse it. But obviously the illness of Maria is progressing more quickly than we all thought. She actively hid the tablets under the dirty laundry in the far corner of her dormitory.". Dr.Monroe took a sip of his tea, absent-mindedly playing with the spoon. It didn´t happen too often that he had to give relatives the final blow, but in this case it was necessary. "Maria doesn´t want to be cured."

"Liar!" Katherine Bailey´s eyes were full of fury. "How can you say such a thing? Maria wants to be cured as much as we want her to!" "And Peter!", her husband assisted. "She loves him – they want to marry …" "That´s no longer true, Fred." Astonishingly Mrs.Bailey sounded much calmer than a minute before, and the doctor was able to relax a little, nevertheless listening closely to every word. "Maria…" She looked at Dr.Monroe, as if to ask permission to go on. He nodded encouragingly.

"She refused to sleep with Peter after that day we had come to her flat. She said the ´Angel of Music´ wanted her to remain ´pure´. Of course Peter didn´t believe a word of it and suspected she was seeing someone else. Stupid boy – as if she could have felt like dating in that state of mind! Two or three weeks later she threw him out of her flat – literally! He was covered in bruises. Since then we haven´t heard a word of him." Katherine Bailey ended, apparently exhausted by her long speech.

"And a few weeks after that she ceased to talk to us.", Mr.Bailey added. The doctor nodded in a satisfied way. "Yes, your daughter has withdrawn from the real world, preferring to live in a dream-like state. Once the patient reaches this stage it is difficult to get him or her back." The professionalism in his voice became less and less as he admitted: "Perhaps I should have told you this earlier.". "Is there still a possibility, anything you can do?", Mr.Bailey asked. "Of course we could force her to take the medicaments, but …", Dr.Monroe started slowly. "Then do so!", the Baileys exclaimed almost in unisono. Katherine Bailey had taken out the picture of Maria and stared at it. "We just want to have our daughter back.", she muttered barely audible.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………...

"They won´t let you do that much longer.", Angela commented Maria´s efforts from the windowsill. "One day you´ll have to take the pills. They´ll simply tie you to the bed and shove them into your mouth." She knew that it wasn´t true, but this way the story sounded much more dramatic. Obviously Maria was finished and had fallen back into her stupor. "Honestly, what´s so great about hearing this guy? You could have many of them out in the real world, and I bet that after a while you´d want more than just their voices." The thought made Angela chuckle.

An elderly woman entered the room and went straight for the corner where Maria sat. "The doctor insisted on telling her, so I´ll tell her, no matter how pointless it is.", she muttered angrily before continuing in a louder, but not much friendlier tone: "Maria, as you´ve not taken your medication so far, we have no other choice than forcing you to, starting from tomorrow. Have you heard me?". "You could as well have talked to the bedside table, Mrs.Norman.", Angela said.

´Please, my angel, you have to help me!´ _It´ll be all right, Christine, don´t panic! _´But what will you do?´ _I´ll get you out of there. We´ll be together at last._


	6. 6

**6**

It all went smoothly: After the nurse´s last check I managed to escape through the window of the bathroom. A taxi picked me up and brought me to the airport. A few hours later I was in Paris, standing once more in front of the opera house. All the time I heard my angel, guiding me. He showed me the way through the endless passages till I could see the underground lake. Though I had been quite calm throughout the journey my nerves fluttered, now that I was there. Any minute I would meet him.

"Christine." I turned around and saw who had spoken my name as lovingly as no one else before. He stood right in front of me, mere inches away. "Is that really you, my angel?", I whispered. "Who else could have brought you to this place, child?" It was strange to watch the man whose voice had started my life. "This is my world." His arm drew a semi-circle in midair, including the lake and what lay beyond. "We´ll be so happy here."

He pulled me into his arms. Although it was the first time we did this he seemed to be closer to me than anybody else. Our lips met quite naturally, and I felt a tingling all over my body. After some endless moments I broke the kiss. I looked deep into his beautiful eyes. "I love you, my Angel of Music." He smiled brightly and placed a light kiss on my forehead. "I love you, Christine." His voice sounded strangely subdued, and I could actually see tears gliding down his face. "I´ve waited for this so long, and now you´re finally here with me. Please promise me you´ll stay forever!" He seized my hand and brought it to his lips. My heart seemed to burst with joy. Without even knowing it I had waited for this moment, maybe my entire life. "Forever", I whispered.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………...

"Gone? What do you mean: She´s gone?" Mr.Bailey´s yells made several patients jump. He stood with his wife at the door of Maria´s dormitory, one arm wrapped protectively around Katherine´s waist. "Can´t your staff even keep a young girl from leaving? Can people here just come and go as they please?" Dr.Monroe ran a hand though his hair. Since his first encounter with the Baileys he had been the bearer of bad news, and they kept becoming worse every time. The only consolation he had was that this piece of information simply couldn´t be exceeded. "When I said on the phone that your daughter was gone, I didn´t mean it literally. Let me show you something."

He guided the parents to a smaller room with a single bed in it. On the bed lay Maria, as beautiful as Snow-white in her coffin of glass. "She isn´t dead.", Dr.Monroe said hastily before they could even ask. "What happened to her?", Alfred Bailey wanted to know. "We cannot be sure.", the doctor replied. "She reacts neither to pain nor to sudden noises. Something made her withdraw entirely. She now lives in her own world, and …" He swallowed hard. "… and there is almost no chance of pulling her out again. I´m sorry."

With hesitant steps Katherine Bailey went to her daughter´s bed. Her eyes were closed, but her lips formed a word. To her mother it looked like "forever".

**The end**


End file.
